The Greatest Works of S. S. Van Dine (Illustrated Edition). S.S. Van Dine

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СКАЧАТЬ as far as she knew, Ada was still ignorant of Chester’s murder.

      We found the girl sitting up in bed, a magazine lying across her knees. Her face was still pale, but a youthful vitality shone from her eyes, which attested to the fact that she was much stronger. She seemed alarmed at our sudden appearance, but the sight of the doctor tended to reassure her.

      “How do you feel this morning, Ada?” he asked with professional geniality. “You remember these gentlemen, don’t you?”

      She gave us an apprehensive look; then smiled faintly and bowed.

      “Yes, I remember them. . . . Have they—found out anything about—Julia’s death?”

      “I’m afraid not.” Von Blon sat down beside her and took her hand. “Something else has happened that you will have to know, Ada.” His voice was studiously sympathetic. “Last night Chester met with an accident——”

      “An accident—oh!” Her eyes opened wide, and a slight tremor passed over her. “You mean. . . .” Her voice quavered and broke. “I know what you mean! . . . Chester’s dead!”

      Von Blon cleared his throat and looked away.

      “Yes, Ada. You must be brave and not let it—ah—upset you too much. You see——”

      “He was shot!” The words burst from her lips, and a look of terror overspread her face. “Just like Julia and me.” Her eyes stared straight ahead, as if fascinated by some horror which she alone could see.

      Von Blon was silent, and Vance stepped to the bed.

      “We’re not going to lie to you, Miss Greene,” he said softly. “You have guessed the truth.”

      “And what about Rex—and Sibella?”

      “They’re all right,” Vance assured her. “But why did you think your brother had met the same fate as Miss Julia and yourself?”

      She turned her gaze slowly to him.

      “I don’t know—I just felt it. Ever since I was a little girl I’ve imagined horrible things happening in this house. And the other night I felt that the time had come—oh, I don’t know how to explain it; but it was like having something happen that you’d been expecting.”

      Vance nodded understandingly.

      “It’s an unhealthy old house; it puts all sorts of weird notions in one’s head. But, of course,” he added lightly, “there’s nothing supernatural about it. It’s only a coincidence that you should have felt that way and that these disasters should actually have occurred. The police, y’ know, think it was a burglar.”

      The girl did not answer, and Markham leaned forward with a reassuring smile.

      “And we are going to have two men guarding the house all the time from now on,” he said, “so that no one can get in who hasn’t a perfect right to be here.”

      “So you see, Ada,” put in Von Blon, “you have nothing to worry about any more. All you have to do now is to get well.”

      But her eyes did not leave Markham’s face.

      “How do you know,” she asked, in a tense anxious voice, “that the—the person came in from the outside?”

      “We found his footprints both times on the front walk.”

      “Footprints—are you sure?” She put the question eagerly.

      “No doubt about them. They were perfectly plain, and they belonged to the person who came here and tried to shoot you.—Here, Sergeant”—he beckoned to Heath—“show the young lady that pattern.”

      Heath took the Manila envelope from his pocket and extracted the cardboard impression Snitkin had made. Ada took it in her hand and studied it, and a little sigh of relief parted her lips.

      “And you notice,” smiled Vance, “he didn’t have very dainty feet.”

      The girl returned the pattern to the Sergeant. Her fear had left her, and her eyes cleared of the vision that had been haunting them.

      “And now, Miss Greene,” went on Vance, in a matter-of-fact voice, “we want to ask a few questions. First of all: the nurse said you went to sleep at nine o’clock last night. Is that correct?”

      “I pretended to, because nurse was tired and mother was complaining a lot. But I really didn’t go to sleep until hours later.”

      “But you didn’t hear the shot in your brother’s room?”

      “No. I must have been asleep by then.”

      “Did you hear anything before that?”

      “Not after the family had gone to bed and Sproot had locked up.”

      “Were you awake very long after Sproot retired?”

      The girl pondered a moment, frowning.

      “Maybe an hour,” she ventured finally. “But I don’t know.”

      “It couldn’t have been much over an hour,” Vance pointed out; “for the shot was fired shortly after half past eleven.—And you heard nothing—no sound of any kind in the hall?”

      “Why, no.” The look of fright was creeping back into her face. “Why do you ask?”

      “Your brother Rex,” explained Vance, “said he heard a faint shuffling sound and a door closing a little after eleven.”

      Her eyelids drooped, and her free hand tightened over the edge of the magazine she was holding.

      “A door closing. . . .” She repeated the words in a voice scarcely audible. “Oh! And Rex heard it?” Suddenly she opened her eyes and her lips fell apart. A startled memory had taken possession of her—a memory which quickened her breathing and filled her with alarm. “I heard that door close, too! I remember it now. . . .”

      “What door was it?” asked Vance, with subdued animation. “Could you tell where the sound came from?”

      The girl shook her head.

      “No—it was so soft. I’d even forgotten it until now. But I heard it! . . . Oh, what did it mean?”

      “Nothing probably.” Vance assumed an air of inconsequentiality calculated to alleviate her fears. “The wind doubtless.”

      But when we left her, after a few more questions, I noticed that her face still held an expression of deep anxiety.

      Vance was unusually thoughtful as we returned to the drawing-room.

      “I’d give a good deal to know what that child knows or suspects,” he murmured.

      “She’s been through a trying experience,” returned Markham. “She’s frightened, and she sees new dangers in everything. But she couldn’t suspect anything, or she’d be only too eager to tell us.”

      “I СКАЧАТЬ